It means
by midnightregret
Summary: yet another h/d... yeah. what's a boy to do when the guy he's in love with ain't got the balls to say he loves him back?
1. chapter one

title: it means… (1/?)

author: regret

e-mail: theregretfairy@yahoo.com

feedback? that would be de-lish!!

rating: herm…considers slash and certain descriptions, r in our world, pg-13 in an ideal one…

disclaimer: not. mine. i just like to tease them… lyrics ain't mine either…

warning: slash, duh

a/n: this beast attacked me in the car. i request that all who read it give it a swift kick in the rear at the end. thanks.

It Means…

By regret

cruel to be kind, in the right measure

cruel to be kind, it's a very good sign

cruel to be kind, means that I love you baby

you gotta be cruel to be kind.

'cruel to be kind' – letters to cleo

            I'm watching him again.

            I know I shouldn't, but I can't help myself.

            He watches me, too.

            He shouldn't, but he does.

            This is a rather startling, and recent, turn of events. 

            He's not supposed to feel it too.

            To tempt me with reality when my mind already teases too much.

            If I asked him if I could fuck him, right here, in the middle of a Potions lesson he'd say yes.

            He'd gasp or whimper or moan and beg me to follow through on it.

            But what can I say?

            Potter jumps into things he shouldn't without thinking of the consequences.

            Lucky for me,

            (us?)

            I don't.

            I think things through until they're dead.

            Only then, if it's still exciting, thrilling, necessary, do I act.

            And, even then, only if duty allows.

            In this case it most certainly does not. 

            And though I am content to watch,

            (and wait?)

            my mind isn't.

            All to often I snap to attention, realizing class has been dismissed, clammy and flushed, disoriented and in desperate need of a cold shower.

            But the dreams…

            The dreams are worse.

            Too vivid…

            Too…real…

            Always I wake with sticky sheets,

            the feel of his tongue against my teeth,

            fingers teasing my nipples,

            mouth around my cock,

            body straining underneath me,

            still tangible.

            Still *real*.

            It's those mornings when a good wank doesn't help in the slightest.

            It's those days when I'm crueler than usual.

            Those nights when I practically beg Snape for a sleeping draught, trying to stave off dreams I know are coming.

            If only for one night.

            Knowing I will welcome them the next.

            "Class dismissed." Professor Snape practically hisses, Neville being required to stay behind once again.

            Wonder if they're fucking…

            Again I've blanked on an entire lesson, but I know he won't fail me and my mind has more important thoughts to tread upon.

            Like the way Potter's ass waggles as he walks, laughing and pushing with the Weasel and Mudblood.

            I wonder if…

            No, no, Weasley is decidedly hetero…

            Sickeningly hetero in fact.

            They turn the corner and disappointment flickers in my belly.

            I was rather enjoying the view…

            Rounding the corner myself I barrel straight into the owner of said view.

            Our eyes meet as we instinctively reach for each other, trying to steady ourselves.

            Fuck.

            His hands are warm on my arms and he smells of wood-smoke and cinnamon.

            I need to say something, anything…

            *Taunting*…

            "What the fuck, Malfoy? You did that on purpose didn't you?!?" Weasley exclaims, pushing at me.

            Crushing a moment that should never have been, anyway.

            "Oh, but of course Weasel." I drawl, rolling my eyes. He's still standing to close. "I have esp and magically *knew* that the lot of you would have *stopped* right after turning the bloody corner. And being so immature as to *thrive* off of knocking into someone I simply couldn't resist." I add dryly, trying to draw out the feel of him by my side.

            Trying to memorize it.

            And dismiss it.

            "Oh ha ha Malfoy." He growls as I get the better of him, again. 

            Unable to take Potter's continues silence I turn on him to sneer, "What do you have to say about it, Potter? You're the one I knocked into after all. Or does Weasel do *every*thing for you?"

            He blinks owlishly at me, as if unable to believe I spoke to him, no matter what it was I was saying.

            Then, softly, "What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

            Oh shit…

            "It means…" His eyes are so gloriously green… "It means fuck. off."

            His face twists as it falls to the floor, along with another little bit of my heart and I push through them before anyone can think to reply.

            I'm breathing too hard.

            And I'm hard as a bleeding rock.

            "Damn you, Harry Potter, and all you do to me."


	2. chapter two

It Means Ch. 2 by Cai

"I will dedicate and sacrifice my every-thing

for just a seconds worth of how my story's ending

I wish I could know if the directions that I take

and all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing..."

--Hoobastank

~~~

Snape hisses the class dismissal and I stand to leave with Ron and Hermione.

Neville has to stay behind again.

He didn't even mess up his potion this time...

But Snape gave him detention anyway...

Only...

I don't think it's as bad for Neville any more...

Cause he doesn't come back to the dorm practically in tears...

And last time he kinda had this *dazed* expression on his face...

And I wonder if...

I glance back over my shoulder at him and Snape...

But nothing shows...

And as I turn back, I train my eyes on the wall, not *him*...

I don't look at him.

I don't.

He's already caught me staring.

Our eyes locked that once...

And something...

*Some*thing...

Passed between us...

I'm sure.

Positive...

But what is it that Dudley always used to say?

_Only fools are positive..._

I sigh.

Ron looks at me...

Hermione looks at Ron...

They look at each other...

They're doing that gushy *love* look thing again.

I stifle another sigh.

I'm happy for them, really I am.

And I'm not jealous.

Truly I'm not.

Yeah. 

Right...

We round the corner.

And there is Seamus...

Pressed against the wall...

And Oliver, who *graduated* last year, is kissing him...

Hermione gasps then starts to giggle...

Ron turns beet red...

By now they've noticed us and have untangled themselves...

"Yeah...um...could you guys maybe..."

"Um...not tell anyone?"

That's so cute.

They're finishing each other's sentences for one another!

I just gape for a moment, then smile...

I open my mouth to reply when someone knocks into me from behind.

I gasp and turn, trying to keep my balance...

Only to realize when it's too late that it's *him*...

Draco...

Malfoy...

And I'm touching him...

And he's warm...

And beautiful...

And he smells like rain and wind and freedom...

_Not something you'd expect from a guy who lives in the *dungeons*, really,_ my mind babbles at me...

And I'm looking in his eyes...

Blue and grey and silver...

Midnight-moon eyes...

Hypnotizing...

"What the fuck, Malfoy? You did that on purpose, didn't you?!?"

Ron pushes him away from me...

That moment...

That instant...

Is broken...

Shattered...

As if it never was...

My hands clinch, wanting to pull him back...

I push them into the pockets of my robes.

Better if they don't see.

"Oh, but of course Weasel," he drawls, rolling his eyes. He's still standing close to me. I can vaguely feel his heat radiating toward me... "I magically *knew* that the lot of you would have *stopped* right after turning the bloody corner. And being so immature as to *thrive* off of knocking into someone I simply couldn't resist." 

He said it dryly, sarcastically...

But he hasn't moved any further away...

He hasn't moved...

"Oh ha ha Malfoy," Ron growls...

Malfoy's done it again.

Ron should really let Hermione take him on again...that time third year when she slapped him...

But...

I don't *want* him to be put down...

Habits are forcing my thinking one way...

While instinct and desire are pulling me a million *other* ways...

"What do you have to say about it, Potter? You're the one I knocked into after all. Or does Weasel do *every*thing for you?"

I blink at him...

What's he playing at?

What's he want?

What do *I* want?

What does it all mean?

Why can't I figure it out?

"What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy," I ask softly...

I can see something flicker in his eyes...

Panic?

Confusion?

Helplessness?

Resolve?

Hurt?

Want?

Need?

I don't know.

Too shadowed...

Too changeable.

His eyes...

He has too many masks...

"It means..."

He's searching...

He's trying to understand...

He's as lost as I am...

Hope dawns...

"It means...fuck off!"

And the fragile light that had been blooming...

The delicate glow that might have strengthened...

Falls to the floor and breaks into a thousand irreparable pieces...

I look at the floor, hoping none of them saw the look on my face...

And then he's pushing past us...

The confrontation is over...

And nothing is resolved...

Everything's the same...

Only it's so different...

And I'm so lost...

And there's nothing I can do about it.


	3. chapter three

all disclaimers in part one

It Means ch. 3

By regret

And I turn you away

Tired of always wanting

Wanting the one thing I can't have

My grip is slipping

Sliding away like rain

Down the window pain of my control

            Walking back to the dungeons I try to mentally congratulate myself on another victory, but my heart is too heavy to believe my lies.

            His face…it just…*shattered*…

            Fell to the ground with another piece of my hope.

            With another chance I'm not even sure was there anyway.

            Wonder what he'd do if I kissed him softly.

            Kissed him without the malice and anger and trademark superiority that I'm so well known for.

            They're all I'm known for.

            Nobody cares what else is there.

            No one wants to bother with the sticky job of attachments.

            Of sorting through the rain drops of personality and character that float beneath the frozen surface of my façade.

            But…

            But *he* might.

            But he *would*…

            If I could convince him that something so out of character as loving him, loving him enough to try and risk, was real.

            ::chuckle::

            But who's to say I do?

            If that's really how I felt about him I'd never have shoved his face in the dirt as I just did.

            Never would have felt that little thrill before the bottom dropped out and left me adrift in guilt.

            Could things get anymore complicated?

            //His teeth against my skin, hands down my pants, wisps of raven hair between my lips//

            I guess so, huh?

            ::sigh::

            Why is it that I feel I can fool everyone?

            Everyone but him?

            Everyone but myself?

            And the Dark Lord of course.

            He'd eat me for fucking breakfast.

            Or use me against him.

            And I can't allow that.

            Voldemort's already stolen too much from him.

            Too much of him…

            Of his life.

            Forcing him to fill a role that nobody should have to bear.

            Least of all alone.

            That he's a hero I don't dispute.

            Just the reason everyone gives.

            No…

            I couldn't risk hurting him.

            Not even for a taste of his innocence.

            Not even for a chance at realization.

            I wish he didn't want me.

            I wish I didn't know he does.

            I wish nothing else in this world mattered but our mutual desire and need to be free of the illusions that bind us.

            The illusions that strap us together by keeping us apart.

            I'm losing to him.

            Losing more and more of myself, my control, with every passing glance.

            With every minute spent not touching him.

            Not running my tongue along his lips, body shuddering into alignment with the only thing that can save it.

            Save me.

            Ever.

            Well, now there's a funny epiphany.

            Mr. Harry Potter.

            My salvation…

            And my damnation.

            Guess the only question now is, which road to take?

I'm so lost, and wishes, wishes are for children and their wells.


	4. chapter four

All previous disclaimers apply

It Means 

Chapter 4 

By Cai

  
"Show me what it's for  
Make me understand it

I've been crawling in the dark  
looking for the answer  
Is there something more  
than what I've been handed?  
I've been crawling in the dark  
looking for the answer..."  
  
-Hoobastank, Crawling In The Dark  
  
 ~~~

  
Days have passed.  
The time has, by turns, dragged and flown.  
Classes bore me...  
Unless he's there...  
And then I sink into day-dreams and miss entire lessons...  
Then there is Quidditch...  
We played Hufflepuff two days ago...  
I kept looking for him in the stands...  
I almost missed the Snitch...  
I almost lost the game...  
Angelina saw it first.  
She was motioning frantically as their Seeker dove for it...  
Only my faster broom saved us.  
Just barely.  
And we play Slytherin on Saturday...  
I don't know how I'll make it through the game...  
Seeing *him*...  
On a broom...  
Leaning over...  
My dirty, dirty mind will take flight...  
As it has now...  
And I will be unable to do anything other than *drool*...  
"*Mr.* Potter!"  
I start.  
"Uh...yes, Professor Flitwick?"  
"I ask you again, what *is* the answer?"  
"I...um...I...that is..."  
I sigh.  
I shake my head.  
"Sorry, Professor. What was the question?"  
He sighs and shakes *his* head now.  
"Never mind, Mr. Potter. You haven't been paying attention all class period, anyway. You wouldn't know the answer..." Professor Flitwick's eyes glide over the rest of the class...  
And land...  
Exactly...  
Where mine have been for the majority of the class period...  
On one Draco Malfoy...  
"*Mr.* Malfoy!"  
He starts.  
There are some rather poorly suppressed sniggers from *both* sides of the room...  
I suppose it *is* comical...  
"Yes, Professor?"  
"I ask you, Sir, what is the answer?"  
"I...well...you see, Professor..."  
He glances in my direction...  
"Um...what was the question?"  
"Aha!"  
The class jumps.  
"You wouldn't know the answer, either, Mr. Malfoy! Now, will you and Mr.  
Potter please stop *oggling* each other and pay attention to my class!?!"  
Malicious little man!  
Draco's eyes widen...  
My mouth drops open...  
"What are you---" I begin.  
"Why you little---" Draco starts.  
"Talking about?"  
"Runt!!!"  
We finish in unison...  
Which, I suppose, could be a good thing, because *my* words drowned out Draco's...  
Which probably saved him from several detentions...  
We glare at one another for a few more moments before resolutely turning in opposite directions.  
Hermione looks from Draco to me...  
Then back again.  
I can see her mind ticking away.  
Little points.  
Minute specks of information...  
Only she could ever put them together...  
But her eyes are glinting.  
And I can see that she thinks she's found out what's going on...  
I sigh.  
I hope she's come to some *other* conclusion.  
I don't feel like defending myself...  
Defending my ideals and hopes...  
Dreams...  
I try to pay more attention.  
But the class is almost over.  
And there's nothing else to really *do*...  
So I fall to glancing at Draco every now and then...  
Again...  
Right before the bell rings our eyes meet.  
I can hear Professor Flitwick snort and then draw breath to say something...  
But the class ends before he can.  
I almost sigh in relief.  
Gathering my books I trudge along behind Ron and Hermione.  
Draco has left the room by the time I look away from my shoes.  
"Harry!"  
"Huh?"

"Weren't you listening?"  
"To what?"  
"To *us*!"  
"Uh, no."  
She sighs.  
"Oh well. Listen now."  
"Right."  
"Are you listening?"  
"Vaguely."  
"*Harry*!"  
"What???"  
"Pay *real* attention!"  
"Why?"  
"Well...because..." 

"Because, dufus, if you don't you'll never hear the plan we've come up with!"  
Ron's exasperated interjection catches my interest.  
"Plan?"  
"Yes. Plan. Now listen to Herm."  
"Fine."  
She starts talking.  
"Okay, we've decided something is wrong."  
I nod.  
Rarely is something *not* wrong.  
"With you."  
"Huh???"  
"Yes. Something is wrong with you."  
"You two, would you just---"  
"Hear us out!"  
"Gah!"  
"I'll take that as a yes."  
"So would I," Ron grins as we walk down the hall, "You won't get much else out of him.  
"Harry," Hermione continues, motioning Ron to be quiet, "I've noticed some rather...interesting habits you've developed over the last   
few...weeks..."  
"You mean months, Herm. Months," Ron interrupts.  
"What*ever* Ron. Let me finish! Anyway, I've noticed these things, *we've* noticed them," she corrects quickly as Ron scowls and opens his mouth. "And we've decided to help you out."  
My eyes get rather wide.  
They know and it doesn't bother them???  
"You know?"  
"Well, yes. It's rather hard not to..."  
"And it doesn't bother you?"  
Hermione scrunches up her nose and Ron makes an awful face at me.  
"We're not saying we think it's the *best* match ever made, but if it's what you want..." Herm begins.  
"We'll help set you up with Pansy," Ron finishes.  
I gape at them.  
I know I look like a fish.  
My eyes have widened...  
They are in danger of popping from my sockets.  
The think I want to date *Pansy*???  
"Um, guys..."  
They're both smiling...  
They're *beaming*, in fact...  
I'm getting queasy...  
Because I've realized that...  
Pansy *always* sits near Draco.  
And that my friends don't know I'm not interested in girls...  
"Harry, are you alright? You've gone this strange kinda greenish yellow color..."  
"Harry?"  
"Oh...yeah...I'm fine..."  
"No, you're not," Hermione says.  
"You're not going to fall over, are you?" Ron asks.  
Ever practical, Ron...  
I almost can't keep the comment to myself...  
"Uh...no..."  
"Are you sure? Cause you're kind of...weaving..."  
"I'm quite positive I am not going to fall over."  
"Harry--" Hermione begins.  
"Right, well...I think I'm going to...go...to the bathroom now..."  
And I whirl around to head back to the bathroom on this corridor.  
"Ron! Follow him! He did *not* look okay!"  
Damn.  
This is the only problem with having best friends of both sexes.  
When the girl wants to follow and can't she sends the guy.  
I try to hurry my pace without drawing any more attention than I already have...  
I get past the door of the bathroom with enough time to run into a stall before Ron can get through after me.  
I shut the door as quietly and quickly as possible and then stand on the toilet.  
Only to have my back hitting something rather soft...  
And pliable...  
And my thighs are bumping the something soft as well...  
The hairs at the nape of my neck stand on end...  
I stiffen.  
No.  
It's not possible.  
It's just not even possible.  
There is no way...  
I slowly turn around.  
And there stands Draco Malfoy...  
The cover of the ventilation shaft over this stall is in his hands...  
His eyes are quite round...  
And his mouth is falling open...  
He shakes himself slightly and opens his mouth.  
I know I'll regret it.  
I can feel it in my bones...  
But I put my hand over his mouth and shake my head.

Glancing over my shoulder I make sure the stall is locked.  
Just then, I hear Ron bumbling in.  
"Hey Harry, where are you?"  
Draco raises an eye brow.  
I shake my head again.  
He rolls his eyes.  
I shrug.  
Then we hear Ron trying to open the stall.  
I look desperately at Draco.  
He narrows his eyes at me and just *glares*.  
"Please," I mouth, hoping he will help me.  
It's all his fault this is happening, anyway...  
I can almost hear his teeth grinding before he opens his mouth.  
In fact, I can feel them...  
And I jerk my hand away before the fact that I am touching his mouth can fully register with my cock...  
By this time, Ron has decided that I have taken up residence in the stall and has begun pulling at the door while speaking.  
"Harry, come *on*! We are going to help you! You'll see. Pansy will like you. We know she will!"  
I sincerely doubt this, seeing as Pansy has a particularly sweet spot for Ron's younger sister, but I *definitely* am not telling *him* that...  
Draco had drawn breath to speak, but on hearing Pansy's name he'd frozen.  
He's just staring at me now.  
I motion toward the door, praying he isn't thinking what I think he's thinking...  
Because that would just be horrible all the way around.  
He makes this noise in the back of his throat, like he's going to choke...  
"Harry! What are you doing? Come *out*! Damn it all, Hermione's going to kill me. Harry--"  
"Weasley, your prattle is getting annoying. Please leave me to shit and piss in peace."  
I can just imagine the look on Ron's face as he hears Draco's words...

And as he imagines that he's just let my biggest secret out to my worst enemy...  
Oh, how little he knows...  
"Uh..."  
"Now, Weasley."  
And we listen as his footsteps leave the bathroom and the door shuts behind him.  
Realizing I am still standing on a toilet seat with Draco Malfoy, I start and jump down...  
He's still holding the grating to the ventilation...  
"What are you doing, Potter?"  
"I was running away from Ron...and Hermione..."  
"Why?"  
"They decided they were going to try to set me up with Pansy..."  
Damn.  
Why did I just tell him that?  
"And why, exactly, did they decide that?" 

"Um...because...I've sort of been looking in her general direction a lot lately?"  
Draco just looks at me.  
"And...Hermione thought she had it all figured out...only she's *way* off base."  
Oh shit.

Don't take that opening...  
Don't...  
Just don't.  
It could be a *very* bad thing for me...  
Please, please, please, don't take the *huge* opening I just gave you...  
"So," he says, looking me up and down, "Where, exactly, is the *right* base?"  
Oh fuck.  
Fuck.  
This is *not* good...  
"Uh..."  
"Yes?"  
Damn.  
Don't act so freaking encouraging, you dolt.  
"Not Pansy."  
"Well, yes. You've told me *that* already..."  
Suddenly, something in his face changes...  
And I realize we've actually been being civil to each other for more than five minutes...  
And I think he's just realizing it himself...  
Because his face kind of closes off...  
But I don't want it to...  
I don't want him to become cold again...  
"I...don't...like...girls..."  
I think I'm going to die.  
I can't believe I just said that.  
And the mask he was settling into place cracks.  
"Girls like Pansy, or girls period?"  
Oh no...  
You're not supposed to ask *questions*!  
"Girls in general..."  
Oh *why* am I still talking???  
What am I doing???  
Draco's eyes narrow again...  
And he purses his lips...  
And I can't help but look at them...  
I can't help but imagine...  
And then he smiles...  
Just a small twitching of his lips...  
But he smiles...  
And I can see he knows what I was thinking.  
I blush scarlet.  
I clutch my school bag more closely to my chest and say, "Well, then...now that we have thoroughly embarrassed me, I'll just be *going*..."  
But he steps down from his perch on the toilet seat and, still holding the grating, backs me into the stall door...  
Not that there's far to be backed, mind you...  
Stalls aren't *that* large...  
And, grating and book bag between us, he kisses me.  
Lightly, at first...  
Then he deepens it...  
And his tongue brushes my lips...  
And I can't think of anything...  
I've lost all the blood that should be in my head...  
It's gone rather farther *south*...  
Just when things begin to get interesting, he pulls away...  
Almost violently...  
And his eyes are wide...  
And he's looking at me in horror...  
My intelligence, so completely lost moments ago, reasserts itself with a harshness that gives me a headache.  
Shit.  
This is *not* good.  
It's alright to admire him from afar.  
It's okay for me to fantasize.  
It might even be mildly acceptable for me to stare at him during classes.  
But kissing.  
I can dream of it...  
I can think about it...  
Hell, I'm a seventeen year old boy, I'd be abnormal if I *didn't* think about kissing...  
But it just complicates things beyond comprehension to actually follow through...  
And I can see all these thoughts flickering across his face...  
But...  
He backs away from me...  
I'm so flustered...  
My mind is telling me one thing...  
//This is wrong. Turn and run. Run fast and you might be able to catch up to Ron and Hermione...//  
And my heart...my body...is telling me something else entirely...  
//Stay...you want him...he wants you...it's been a while since you had any...come on, he'll be good, don't worry about the consequences...don't bother with the thinking...just do what feels right...//  
And all I can think to say is, "What the hell are you doing taking the grating off the wall?"


	5. chapter five

all disclaimers still apply. not mine. never will be mine. deal, i do.

It means (5/?)

By regret

            Harry Potter's gay.

            Harry Fucking Potter is a flaming homosexual.

            I can't help my, almost predatory, grin.

            It's not like I didn't already know…

            But to see him flush, to hear him admit it, to me of all people!

            Oh, life doesn't get any better than this!

            Clutching his bag to his chest he mumbles, "Well, then… now that we have thoroughly embarrassed me, I'll just be *going*…"

            Without thought or hesitation, I step down of my perch on the toilet and advance on him.

            Not that there's far to advance, but still…

            His book bag and my ventilation grate separate us, making our positioning awkward, but I don't care.

            Am beyond caring at this point really.

            And Potter's just looking at me, stunned.

            I almost chuckle as I lean into him, his chest heaving.

            I lied.

            Life *definitely* gets better than this.

            A hairsbreadth from his waiting mouth I remind myself to be gentle, not to frighten him away.

            I brush my lips against his, too softly for satisfaction. 

Asking…

Asking if this is all right.

Asking if I can have more.

He answers by leaning into me, adding pressure, granting me permission…

My tongue ghosts along his lower lip and he shivers.

I want to purr…

At the first slow stroke of tongue on tongue my senses come crashing down about my ears.

I pull back, horrified.

Oh no no no!!

This wasn't supposed to happen!

*Ever*!!

Damn the cramped confines of this stupid stall and the soft cherry of his lips!

Oh'm gonna be sick…

At least I'm in the right place for it.

And he's just *looking* at me!

Shouldn't he be doing something, like running away?

Or cursing my name?

Or some such blather?!

I knew he wanted me…

But wanting and having are two ENTIRELY different things!

Can't he see that?

Does the distinction between the two not run through his veins as it does mine?

I may want him.

HELL! I may even _need_ him…

But I've no real desire to have him.

I've not the right…

I'm not that stupid.

AND FUCK!

Would he just do something, SAY SOMETHING, already!

"What the hell are you doing taking the grating off the wall?!"

I blink.

Well.

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting…

But that was _decidedly_ *not* it…

But I can't help as my grin slips into place.

Oh, he's gonna love this!

"I, Harry, am implementing my 'Great Revenge Plan' on Flitwick!"


	6. chapter six

Chapter 6  
  
By Cai  
  
***  
  
He grins at me, then says, "I, Harry, am implementing my 'Great Revenge Plan' on Flitwick!"  
  
I gape.  
  
I know I do.  
  
His Great Revenge Plan?  
  
I laugh.  
  
"How juvenile can you *get*?"  
  
His smile falters and fades.  
  
It's replaced by ice.  
  
Thank god.  
  
I can deal with a cold, heartless, Malfoy-like Draco.  
  
I can't deal with a cute one.  
  
Or a sweet one...  
  
Or one that tastes like whipped cream and chocolate.  
  
Damn deserts to hell.  
  
They should not make me think of drizzling chocolate down his chest...  
  
And then licking it off...  
  
Or licking *any*thing off him...  
  
Or licking him off...  
  
I nearly wince...  
  
But that would show him how off kilter I am...  
  
My mental self rolls his eyes and comments, "Like you could be any *more* obvious about it..."  
  
I lock my mental self in a tiny box at the back of my mind and throw away the key.  
  
Who needs a mental self, anyway?  
  
"Thank you very much, Mr. I'm So Fucking Mature."  
  
Oh dear.  
  
Well...at least I can handle him...  
  
I hope...  
  
"Whatever...um..."  
  
I pause.  
  
"So articulate," he drawls.  
  
"Shut up..."  
  
I scowl.  
  
Damn.  
  
This is so petty!  
  
I can do better than this...  
  
But he *kissed* me...  
  
Draco Fucking Malfoy kissed me...  
  
This is beyond real.  
  
"As I said, Mr. Maturity."  
  
"Oh come off it," I say, trying desperately to *not* think about how that could be taken...  
  
Or how Draco would *take* anything...  
  
Shit...  
  
He arches his eyebrow at me.  
  
I pray...  
  
He opens his mouth, and I can tell he's going to say something, and then I will either have to run or smash his teeth in...  
  
And he has such pretty teeth...  
  
Oh fuck...  
  
I have to say something before him...  
  
"So, what exactly does this plan entail?"  
  
"Glue."  
  
"Glue?"  
  
"Yes. Lots of glue."  
  
"Um...why?"  
  
"Because, Potter...the little man has to stand on all those *books* while he's teaching...and what better way to get back at him for humiliating me...er...*us*...than to embarrass *him*..."  
  
"Well, yes...but what does *glue* have to do with it?"  
  
"I'm going to put a spell...or two..." his eyes glint, "Or maybe a few more...on the books...so first his feet will stick...and then he'll fall...and the rest of the books will fall on top of him--no, don't look at me like that! One of the spells is for a soft landing and another for light books--and the pages of the books that fall open on him will stick. For a *very* long time."  
  
"Draco...don't you think it would be better to maybe...put a bucket of Zonko's Super-Sticky Troll Drool above his door or something? The Drool will stick for far longer, and it basically hardens on contact..."  
  
"Ah, but Harry," he says, and I don't think he even realizes he's not calling me Potter anymore, "That is not *public*..."  
  
"But it would be if there were some way to make the whole school see it..."  
  
"The whole school?"  
  
"Well, yeah..."  
  
"How would we do that?"  
  
"What if we did it before he walked in the Great Hall?"  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?"  
  
"Um...well..." I think about telling him I almost was...but I decide that would just complicate things..."No, definitely not..."  
  
He looks at me for a moment, then says, "You say it like it'd be a bad thing..."  
  
And his voice sounds different...  
  
And good God...no! Not *again*!  
  
I shake my head...  
  
I was so close...  
  
I was almost cleared of dirty little thoughts...  
  
"But I'm thinking the Zonko's Super-Sticky Troll Drool is a good idea...just...how would we work it so it only hit him? We don't want everyone else to get splattered...or worse yet, for it to hit someone else entirely..."  
  
"True..."  
  
"We could...be watching and drop it specifically on him..."  
  
"That should work..."  
  
I pause...  
  
Wait...  
  
How did *I* get drawn into this???  
  
But it does sound rather...appealing...  
  
"What happens if we get caught?"  
  
"Well," he says, "We could pretend to fight..."  
  
"Pretend?"  
  
Silence falls.  
  
For seven years we have fought.  
  
No pretending was needed.  
  
But now?  
  
Now this odd...  
  
Strange...  
  
Unexpected truce has come between us...  
  
Grown and taken hold...  
  
And I don't really *want* to fight any longer...  
  
I tilt my head looking at him...  
  
He shrugs, not looking at me.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Why not? Besides, who'd ever think of *us* working together?"  
  
Who indeed.  
  
"So, how's this going to work?"  
  
He looks at me for a moment...  
  
"I think it would be best," he says, "For us to be situated close to each other just outside the hall..."  
  
"I can see that working."  
  
"Right. So we'll be out there...and when he walks by, down with the bucket of Drool."  
  
"Right...now...*why*, exactly did you have to take the grating down?"  
  
"Oh..." he looks at the grating still in his hands. "I had to get into his room to put the spells on the books somehow, didn't I?"  
  
"Climbing through the ventilation ducts?"  
  
"Well...Fred and George do it all the time!"  
  
"Yeah, but they're Fred and George. It's different."  
  
He nearly glares at me.  
  
"And I'm Draco Malfoy, so I can't climb through the ventilation ducts?"  
  
I open my mouth to say, "No, you are *not* allowed to crawl through the ventilation ducts," but something holds me back.  
  
I shrug.  
  
"You know, you look like a fish when you do that..."  
  
The inner voice I have locked away in the back of my mind in the teeny tiny box makes a valiant effort to break free...good thing I threw out the key...  
  
I'd be tempted to let him out and scathe Draco with my sarcastic wit...  
  
But I'd probably get burned to cinder in the process...  
  
The funny thing about inner voices is, they rag just as much on you as on other people...  
  
"Thanks, Draco. Thanks a *whole* bunch."  
  
"What?"  
  
I shake my head again.  
  
"Nevermind. Why don't you put the grating back?"  
  
"Good idea..."  
  
He stands on the toilet seat again and turns to replace the grating.  
  
I turn, unlock the stall door, and run from the room.  
  
As I turn the corner a voice floats down the hall, calling, "Meet me here tomorrow...same time..."  
  
"Oh, wonderful," I think as I race down the hall to the dorm room...  
  
But I can't help smiling slightly as I pass through the corridors...  
  
Despite the fact that what I'm doing is decidedly wrong...  
  
It's also going to be decidedly fun... 


End file.
